


(Can Anybody Find Me) Somebody to Love

by LazlosLulls



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Cultural Differences, Alternate Universe, Asexual Character, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Bechdel Test Pass, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Mutual Pining, One swear, Practice Kissing, allura has ghibli hair, allura is groot, background klance, bitch u think shiro wouldn't wear ace flag colors at his wedding u wrong, both of them are beauty and both of them are the beast, rom com or fairytale?, shiro and allura get the healing they deserve, stress cooker shiro, surprise it's both!!, they're both plants, three weddings!, written before we even met lotor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 09:47:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13972446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazlosLulls/pseuds/LazlosLulls
Summary: Public stories and some rumors about the courtship between Princess Allura and Takashi Shirogane, intercut with truths only they know. It’s hard to live like you’re already in love, when you’re still falling.





	(Can Anybody Find Me) Somebody to Love

“Now, once it’s all just barely mixed, you need to start kneading it for five minutes,” a big number ‘5’ was presented on screen, above the dark hands working on the dough. They were suddenly sped up. “So you want to make sure that it’s elastic, all stretchy like this-”

Shiro paused the video. He’s seen it enough, he knows what to do. So he snapped on a pair of gloves and got to work.

There was somebody in the doorway, watching him.

At first glance, you would assume she was a large art installation, made of driftwood intricately placed together by some nerd with too much time on his hands and a very supportive family. But, clearly there were hands, rough and sharp with nails as thick and wide as steak knives. A knotted, overgrown trunk of a chest and cracked bark on her legs, like old scabs had yet to fall off. She was wearing a simple nightgown in a soft blue. Her face was shrouded in bone white twigs, and in between those were spiny nettles. And her eyes were glass, nearly unblinking coins of sunrise pink, daytime blue, and midnight black. Underneath that was a massive jaw filled with more spikes, in the deep brown of a tree. Some parts of her were colored a rose pink, in little swipes under her eyes, across her limbs like someone painted finishing touches before they started to work. She was tall, moving with loud rustling and stomping, filling the space nearly to the ceiling. 

“Good morning, Allura! I left the tea side clean, if you want some.” He said cheerfully, dumping out the soft dough from the mixing bowl.

His friend drifted in, clearly taking advantage of the traveling day. Shiro suspected that it was a consequence of staying awake through long diplomatic parties; more of a night person. She deftly made her hot drink in a delicate, flowery cup and then sat down on the clean counter. 

He’d been up for a long while. Shiro started to lift the dough, seeing it stretch on its own weight. The best thing he’s discovered about his prosthetic was there was no wrist strain. Made it perfect for mixing ingredients. 

Allura’s mane of nettles crackled as she turned to look in the kitchen. Honestly, it wasn’t the worst he had left it. There wasn’t anything on the ceiling, so she can’t be that mad. “What…are you making?” 

“I’ve been craving some pizza…so I looked up a recipe and I thought I’d make some.”

“Pi-tah?”

“It’s bread and sauce and toppings, all baked and nice and cheesy.”

“Cheese? Ugh.” She stuck her tongue out; it was a flat, pink and green leaf that disappeared as quickly as it came.

“That’s the beauty of it; you can choose what you want. I’m making a lot of dough, so you can make your own.”

“What do you recommend?”

“Something that’s good when warm. I’m clearing the fridge out, so I think most of everything is going on it.”

“What?” She gasped, scandalized, “This is a special dish! You can’t just throw everything on it!”

“Yes I can, it’s called garbage pizza.”

“Comparing your food to garbage! No wonder your palate is so undeveloped! You can’t go on living like this!” Allura stomped over to the fridge, sharp nails receding so she could grab the handle. Her rough, broad hands turned smaller. She mumbled to herself, picking out appropriate vegetables and meat before throwing them on the counter. “And for Goddesses sake! Reduce your spices!”

Behind him, Shiro heard jars knocking against each other before the cabinet hissed shut. He smiled. She doesn’t know that he seasoned the dough already. “Okay, I’ll just add this to the pile, and-”

“No you don’t! I’ll stay right here and make sure you do as I say.”

The dough seemed fully mixed, so he separated into three parts, and placed them in a bowl on top of a warm oven. “As you wish.”

Allura stared at him, sky blue eyes striking against the knotted bark of her skin. If it was a few weeks ago, he would have faltered, but instead he shrugged and started to clean.

“If you don’t want to be stuck here the whole day, I could use your help chopping.” He tossed over his shoulder. 

“Yes, of course.”

-

They will be married in six months.

Of course, there is gossip around these things. The sudden appearance of Pilot Takashi Shirogane, entourage to Ambassadors Samuel and Matthew Holt, along with his quick courtship and engagement of Princess Allura of Altea, had too many tongues telling their tales.

Those who thought they understood Allura, had this to say. She was a bright, fair thing that, with the death of her father, could no longer hold onto the power that could protect the smaller civilizations. She knew the Galra were to offer their Prince Lotor’s hand, and in that way she could continue in opulence, and yet…

Some swore that the air in the ballroom started to become suffocating, the moment she laid eyes on him.

So she ran outside, into a small grove, as to collect her thoughts. As it was just Allura and her mysterious confidante, there has been some…variation on what transpired, as the Princess does not say. So, the most likely.

Takashi, a novice of the Alliance courts, had hidden himself as to not cause a scene. He was a warrior, but without a hunger for battle, understanding the consequences. Allura had bumped into him, and they talked, and they grew fond of each other. 

The Princess will settle for a primitive, a young race that will let her keep her status. Probably just vying for the medical tech, sly thing. Or the human’s foothold into a larger court. There is seldom one reason for a marriage.

Human-centric gossipers, have another story. The start of it wasn’t that night, they claim, but some time before, with an encoded message and a plea.

Allura must not marry Lotor. She cannot, and is asking for anyone who could be her life partner to step up as soon as possible. A list was included; space worthy, able to leave the planet for weeks at a time, no previous romantic engagements, a mind for diplomacy, etc. 

Whether or not they found Allura beautiful wasn’t a question. Of course she was. She was nearly human, with big ‘elf’ ears and beautiful brown skin, hair like starlight and eyes like sunset on a lake. They joked that anyone who thought of cheating her should be ashamed, even if it was a loveless marriage.

And the decision was made, far off from any notion of love and romance, by strategists and generals. Takashi Shirogane was a candidate, but not the final choice.

Yet, by some magic, or fate, they saw a human on the arm of an Altean, and a not quite subtle promise to keep in touch.

-

The truth is never that easy.

Allura was miserable. Matt had failed to win her over, or even made it known that they shared interests! It was like talking to a child, if it had a semblance of manners. If this was the best Earth had to offer, she might even reconsider her alliance.

Matt couldn’t even talk to her, much less the other diplomats! He was more comfortable with technology, and that was one way to put her to slumber. Of course, that left a choice; human sleeping tonic, or…Lotor.

He barely reintroduced himself before intruding her personal space. It had been years, but all they had given him was a few feet. He was still the childish, snobbish monster Allura remembered. She doesn’t need reminding that this is a horrible situation even without him, thank you very much. The thought of being attached to him made her skin crackle. She prides herself on her composure, but Lotor…arrogant, prideful, and forceful at his worst, brought out an anger in Allura. She had to leave quickly before anyone noticed that her skin had gone rough, or her nails sharp.

The grove was secluded, just outside the main ballroom. There were soft lights and winding, climbing plants on a simple gazebo. There was a small fountain and a few benches. She took a seat and centered herself. Being surrounded by plants helped to relax, to breathe.

This wasn’t the endgame. This could not be the end. She would adapt and survive. 

That was her trick. Alteans were shapeshifters, their base form a pleasing, humanoid plant. Many of them could shift a small bit; more bark, taller, changing their flowers, growing vines. It was something she had full control over.

Until Lignum Palace had been destroyed. Sure, the planet would heal, but her childhood home was gone, her father dead, her people scarred by the attack. Something in her had broken, and she could not hold her form, especially when antagonized by an asshole suitor.

Suddenly, someone stumbled into the fountain. “Ah!” And Allura picked her head up, watching the stranger.

He was human, well built and wearing black pants and a white dress shirt. His hair was black and white, possibly going for a theme, but he had gloves on, which was unusual. His eyes were scared, haunted, but quickly relaxed as he saw the grove. He shivered, taking the water from the fountain and splashing it on himself. “I see a fountain, a gazebo, and,” his eyes drifted to her. “A tree statue. I feel the water and my jacket. I hear…the party is still going.” He started to pat his arms and sigh. “Hope Sam figured it out by now.”  
Her form had shifted back; thankfully her dress wasn’t torn. Allura stood up, curious. “Sam who?” 

“Ah!” he nearly jumped, “You-I’m sorry, it’s been a long night.” He extended a hand, and she grasped it, shaking quickly. “I’m Takashi Shirogane, the pilot for the Earth Ambassador.”

“Princess Allura of Altea. And I apologize. I didn’t want to be found. Is something wrong with Sam?”

“Yes.” Takashi shook his head, “Well, no. That’s not Matt.” They could both see inside the ballroom. Matt and Samuel were close together, talking with an engineer. How could it be? He certainly looked like the file.

“What? How do you know?”

“I was on a research mission with Matt for six months. You get to know a person.” Allura started to move to the pair, suddenly feeling the urge to ‘talk’ to them. Takashi put his arm in her way, and she’s not ashamed to say that her mane fluffed up with spikes. He grimaced. “He couldn’t exactly dance on a broken leg, so his sister had to tag in.”

“But this means-” she turned away from them, going deeper into the grove. Anger wrapped itself around her chest, squeezing as it sunk in. She hadn’t beaten the clock. She would have to – the thought made the pain in her chest worse, spreading out her body. Changing it into a monstrous parody of herself. In her rage, she grew to eye level with the messenger. “But what about our deal?”

Takashi flinched, keeping his voice steady, “That Matt be your escort for the night? I’m sorry but-”

“The night? I had asked for a husband! Do none of you understand simple agreements?” she growled.

His voice shook, like he’d taken a punch. “A –husband?” 

The vines around her neck, that she’d taken some time to grow lovely little flowers on, started to unwind and thrash. “Yes! I need to be married to continue my work! Everyone knows that!” her vines and hands gestured to the ballroom. “The Galra know that!”

“…I-I can do it.”

“What?” her head tilted, and her vines receded. Having seen the worst of her, he still-?

Takashi collected himself again, looking her with sincerity in his eyes. “I’m sorry this happened. I’m not worthy, but please, let me try.” he offered his hand.

Allura stared him down, “The diplomat is just a mask. This is who you’ll be tied to, until death do you part.” She extended her own hand; it was rough and cracked. The unspoken question; do you think you could love this, without anything in return?

He nodded, “I understand.” Takashi grasped it in his own gloved hand. She started to rub at it, the texture smooth. Her vines wove themselves back around her neck. He stood there, awkwardly, for a moment. “Can we sit and talk?” he glanced at the bench behind her. “I just want to get a sense of your boundaries; I don’t want to put my hand on your shoulder and get thorns.”

She coughed, almost startled. Her face started to smooth out, getting back to business. “…right. We’ve only just met, so it’s best to keep a respectable distance. Arms linked, like so.” Allura shifted, taking an arm. She was starting to calm down, Takashi was taller than her now. “Oh! Your face! It’s melting!”

Takashi’s eyes widened, and he gasped. He ran to the fountain, looking down at the reflection of his face. “Of course it’s not waterproof.” Takashi groaned. Across his nose was a mark that stretched from one eye to the other.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah. It’s…my makeup is wearing off.” He looked at the water again, seeing both of their faces. Takashi sighed, “These scars didn’t come from being peaceful.”

“As long as you can stay peaceful, we will be fine.” And Allura took his arm in hers again. “Trust me, no one is going to look at you twice.” She shifted back into her diplomatic form, effortlessly gorgeous.

“You should probably call me Shiro, then.”

Both of them smiled easier as they headed to the rest of the party.

-

The Princess requested bodyguards, and Earth had sent a squad of their own, with Takashi embedded in them. He accompanied her to her meetings; a personable, if imposing force in the boardroom. But everyone could see that there was something more to their interactions; a lingering look here, holding hands for much longer than is proper.

Takashi was seen at a choreography studio, practicing his waltz. The instructor implied, but couldn’t say, that he had brought the steps to the Fan Dance, a courting ritual favored by the Alteans.

Allura spent some time in the company of Samuel Holt, the Earth Ambassador. As it turns out, his son Matthew was a close friend of Takashi’s. They had fought together, and Matthew was adamant that the Princess treat him well.

Still, these are just rumors.

-

He was sent alone. He suspected Matt might’ve been, and knows even better now. 

Shiro quietly marveled at the Castle of Lions. He’s seen pictures; when on a planet, it lived up to its fairytale name. It was almost like another star in the depths of space.

Allura was waiting for him. She wasn’t as…distraught as she was when they met. Her face was woven branches, her hair was white nettles, but she smiled. “Welcome aboard. This will be your home. I’ve already adjusted the atmospheric controls; 21% oxygen, correct?”

“Yes.” He rolled out his two suitcases. “I’ll take a room close to yours; to keep up appearances.”

“The Castle rarely has visitors, but I agree.” Allura agreed, voice cool. “Once you’ve set your things down, we have some more things to go over. My chambers are over there.” She pointed the way. “They’re the double doors. You can take any suite nearby.”

Shiro’s footsteps echoed in the hallway. The white color of the floor, the ceiling and the walls made the space seem enormous. He allowed himself to wonder; is there anyone else on this ship? Any cleaning staff? Does family drop by? Then Shiro shook his head; he’s read the file. Princess Allura has no immediate family. He saw her at the end of the hallway, just as still and quiet like the statue he mistook her for.

Must be lonely.

She led him to another room, with a long table. Some glass tablets were stacked on his end. Allura pulled out a chair with her vines, gesturing him to sit. “There are more things we need to discuss.” She moved two chairs together; they merged and she sat halfway down the table from him. “I understand humans have a long history of extramarital affairs.” She let a twinge of anger through her voice.

“I can assure you that I will not have an affair.” He said evenly.

“How can I be sure?”

“Three reasons:” Shiro counted off his fingers, “I would be considered insane for leaving someone as beautiful as your public self. It would damage both of our reputations. And I’ve been fine without a steady romantic relationship for four years…it’s not going to hurt me to stay single.”

“…Yes. Next item. I’ve requested your medical records be sent to me. Please, confirm that they are accurate and they will be uploaded into the system. I will not look at them unless you give me permission.”

Shiro nodded, flipping through the tablet and signing off. “There’s something I have to share.” He removed his gloves and started to recite what he practiced. “I have a prosthetic arm, so I need to see a specialist. I can meet him outside the castle, if you want.”

Allura tilted her head, “You have what kind of arm?” 

He undid his jacket and rolled up the sleeve of his T-shirt. The grey panels looked terrible in the white light of the ship, showing scratches and marks from use. The prosthetic stopped at his shoulder, straps wound underneath the shirt to stabilize it. Shiro was about to explain but he was cut off.

“It’s such a different color! Shouldn’t there be more silver on you, if that’s your secondary pigment? How did you grow it?”

“Umm. No. This is a replacement. I didn’t grow it. Someone built it.” He started to pull off his shirt, hoping she’d understand. He unclipped the straps under his armpit, and used his other arm to pull off the prosthetic. What was left of it was the elbow upwards, covered in surgery scars and a compression sock. The hollow bicep clanked as he put it on the table. 

Allura stepped closer, hands gingerly prodding the prosthetic. “I hope you understand that this won’t change anything.”

“I know.”

“How did it…?”

“Three years ago, I was assigned as a guard to protect a Balmera while it was recovering. It…got out of hand.”

“…Was that a pun?”

“Maybe.” Shiro smiled, “After I recovered, I kept my pilots license, and ended up teaching for a bit. Matt asked me to come to the conference where we met.”

Allura suddenly looked at the prosthetic. “…These colors don’t match with my own. Perhaps you could commission another one for when after we are married?”

“I’ll get in touch with my engineer.” He patted the arm before returning his attention to the tablets. There was a checklist, which he immediately started to read. “Rings, venue, catering, cake…this is a wedding list!” his voice nearly broke at the last part. “And there’s two of them?”

“Well. It is a historical event, after all. Better get the planning out of the way first!” She smiled, “besides, I just need some confirmation on things. It’s tradition that the bride takes over planning, so I just…planned! But that’s not a priority right now.”

“What is?”

Allura picked up another list. Her smile was terrifyingly wide. 

“How about our first fight?”

-

The pair went to the Arusian Circus together, enjoying the daring acts of agility and performance. They snuck away during the lion taming act, while the whips cracked in the air and the beast roared. The paparazzi found them on the observation deck, holding hands and looking at the stars. 

“Yes, well, goodness we wanted to keep it a secret a little longer but,” The Princess blushed, “We’re dating!” Allura smiled wide, pulling Takashi in for photographs. He was more sheepish, but smiled just as wide as she did.

-

After the first few rules and dates had been agreed on, Allura had given him free passage through the Castle. Most of the upper and lower decks were locked, seeing as they were merely condensed repeats of their level. There were two kitchens on this floor; a large, restaurant style one for feasts, and a smaller one closer to the rooms. There was a small arena, with basic exercise equipment. Allura even showed him the 3D printer, so he could create more human-specific things, from punching bags and weights to chairs and lamps. 

It had been two weeks, and that was the last substantial conversation that Shiro had with the Princess. Not to say that she had been silent; just that it was hard to talk when they had different schedules. He quickly learned that she woke in the middle of the morning, and stayed up late into the night. The opposite of him, which was wake up early, far too early, and counteract that with sleeping right after dinner. It didn’t help with the nightmares.

But his insomnia did give him perks. He was able to contact his specialist, Hunk Garrett, and discuss a new prosthetic. The engineer was overjoyed at the fact that they had a 3D printer, he started sketching and rattling off ideas about swappable plating for easy repairs and cosmetic changes.

His students would be glad to know that he did grade their reports, and caught up on the homework he’d given them before the replacement took over. The Garrison had even given him a generous severance package, letting him go easier than expected.

Of course, that might have been because of how he was leaving.

Matt was healing from his broken leg, skittering around on his crutches, excited to be moving again. “How is it, over there?” he said, after a long greeting and update.

“Quiet. Way too quiet.”

“With the way she’s at parties, I thought you’d be bitching about old boyfriends in no time.”

“She’s not like that at the Castle. I can’t get a hold on her, she’s always got some work to do.”

Matt sighed, “C’mon, Shiro, are you just not trying to get a hold of her? I know you. We were stuck in a metal tank for six months and we found a way not to talk. You’re trying to be responsible.”

“It’s what I was asked to do.” Shiro said firmly.

Matt frowned, “NO ONE asked you.” The brunet slammed his papers down, but really, it was more of a pat, “Shiro, you can’t convince yourself that you’re alright just because you’re doing your job. This situations sucks for you, it sucks for her, and if it wasn’t for this,” he pointed to his leg, “it probably would suck for me too. If you just admit it and start talking with her, that mutual suckyness would probably be a great bonding point!”

“…yeah. You’re right.” Shiro’s shoulders relaxed.

“Yes. I’m always right.” Matt smiled, “Go on! Talk to her!”

“Matt. It’s like 3am here. She’s dead to the world until 10.”

“Wow. That beauty sleep thing really works, doesn’t it?”

Shiro thought back to the mess of nettles and sharp spikes, crackling bark and squirming vines. “Yes. Yes it does.”

He tries to sleep after that, but he’s in the arena at 7:30am, staring at the ‘Gladiator’ option and trying to figure out what it means. He could ask Allura, but her answers were always stiff and formal. Was he really that terrible that she’d ignore him at her outside of her duties? At least outside the Castle, she was open, happier. Why would she pretend if it was just the two of them? It feels like he’s just in the way. Shiro drags a hand down his face. Of course, he’s the one in her home, she probably just wants to relax. He should too, if he wants to make this work.

He walks back to his room. The double doors, just feet away from his own, taunt him. He stood, contemplating, before swallowing his fear. “Besides, the door is probably locked anyway…” He gently turned the knob, feeling the click of the gears. “Oh no.” the automatic system swung both doors open.

There wasn’t a sound. “Allura,” he whispered, “Sorry I’m just-” he stage whispered, walking forward to grab at the double doors and close them. He stopped mid stride, looking at the empty cot. The room was bare, with just a vanity, a nightstand, and a bed. There were doors, but he didn’t want to explore. The ceiling was high, with a fake skylight filled with stars. Next to the bed was…a bed of soil. Shiro knew that this place hadn’t been used in months. It looked the part of a Princess’s bedroom. Just like he looked the part of her boyfriend.

He sighed, pulling the doors closed. The mystery remained, where did the Princess go at night? The thought bit at him, and he recalled the bed of soil. Allura had given him a tour, which included the large garden that took up most of the floor. He understood why; Alteans were mobile plants, they needed to root and feed every so often to stay healthy. 

Keeping a food source near a resting place made sense. With that, he headed to the garden. The day cycle of the Castle was following Altea; their sunrise started around 8am. It was simulated by the hallway lights, the way that they would fade from a low green to a bright blue. 

The garden was multi-tiered, stretching from their floor to the ceiling of the ship. There were sections of rich, dark soil in private places so that visiting Alteans could rest. Flora of every color was contained by white boxes and gates. The ceiling was covered in screens, simulating sunrise. Directly in the center, was a tree, tall and proud, bathing in the artificial light.

It wasn’t there two weeks ago. It wasn’t even there yesterday, when he dragged a chair and his tablet in to read in peace. It was towering, maybe two stories, stretching from two trunks at the base. Most of it was covered in rough panels of bark, but there were vines and branches, slowly flickering and stretching outward. Two limbs raised upward, nearly touching the screens. There were swipes of pink on the very edges of the bark, glowing faintly then brighter the higher the artificial sun climbed. 

He was frozen in awe. He knew that Alteans changed shape; Allura proved that when they met. But this much? It couldn’t be her, right? The sunrise shifted a little, the raggedy short vines on her head showed white. Shiro sucked in a breath. Yeah. Probably her. Which means this is probably ‘her time’ and he should run. 

He wrenched his feet back, some primal instincts forcing him to keep looking. Which means he did not see the gates right behind him. He collided with a bang, recoiling and dropping on the ground. Shiro immediately covered his head and tucked his legs under his torso. His harsh breath filled the small space between his mouth and the floor. Shiro waited, for a shaking floor, for a sound. Nothing. Slowly, he picked up his head. She hadn’t moved, so she probably hadn’t noticed. His heart pounded, but he silently stood up and walked away.

Shiro cast his head back; Allura was still enjoying the fake sunrise. He could ask her over lunch. The glow across her bark was mesmerizing. Suddenly his world spun. His arm had caught a gate and he accidentally flung himself into a dirt filled enclosure. “Oof! Urughh…” Shiro groaned into the dirt. The exit was two feet away, if he wanted to move. He just went limp, feeling the moist soil creep into his clothes. What did it matter, anyway?

Suddenly, there was a crackling noise, like someone broke hundreds of twigs. Shiro shot up, looking at the center of the room. He thought that Allura would have a face, maybe the interwoven branches that she wore at her home. But it was solid mask, with carved swoops and vivid, shining eyes. A bone rattling scream filled the garden. 

Nope. Nu-uh. Shiro bolted to the exit, slamming the access panel on his way out. He rested his arm on the wall, panting and shaking. What-what was she? This wasn’t mentioned anywhere on the documents. He would have remembered reading ‘your wife may turn into a monster, best to stay out of her way on the 4th week of the month, just give her space and heating pads for good measure.’ That part would have been nice to know.

Was this an Altean thing? He needs to do more research. That found him in the kitchen, slurping a water pouch and scrolling through his tablet. Alteans definitely shifted as a defense mechanism, but not that much. What was he missing?

Allura burst in, slightly out of breath. She back to her normal Castle appearance, with the hinge-jaw and deep, crackled skin. “Shiro!”

“Allura.” He sipped his pouch. “I’m sorry for interrupting you this morning. It won’t happen again.”

“I’m sorry for scaring you.” 

“It’s alright.” He smiled and went back to scrolling.

Allura seemed to be satisfied with his answer. Then her brows pinched, and her shoulders hunched. “Why aren’t you doing anything? I just frightened you, and you’re brushing it off! Why aren’t you angry?” she slammed her hands down on the counter, looking Shiro dead in the eye, “I took you away from your home! I’m preventing you from finding the love of your life! I don’t understand, why aren’t you livid?”

“I’m not angry. I’m never going to be angry at you for this. I walked into this with both eyes open. The last thing I want to do is hate you.” He said softly.

She suddenly deflated, “…because it’s easier, right? We’re bound together, by strange politics and choice. Better to be kind to each other.” She looked down at her hands.

“Not because of that.” He took her hands, feeling the knots and roughness. “When we met, I wanted to help you.”

Vines started to pinch his fingers. Rage flickered in Allura’s eyes, “Do not think you’re some savior, Shirogane.” She gestured to his tablet. “The reason you cannot find my condition? I am a Pollux Beast. I’ve fought on the front lines of the Altean Wars as a living weapon. I am not your perfect princess.”

“I’m not asking you to be that. I know I’ve been intruding on your space since I’ve been here. You don’t have to be perfect to live with me, you just have to be you.” For a moment, there was pain in her eyes. Then it was replaced with smugness. Her vines receded, and she snorted. “What?” Shiro asked.

“That’s too sappy. Do you mind if we use it sometime?” Whatever exposed emotions she had were gone, replaced with the businesslike persona of the Princess. Maybe that was herself, Shiro guessed. Either way, the tension had left both of them.

“I don’t mind.” Shiro took it as permission to move. “Want me to make you something for breakfast?”

“Nah. I just fed.”

“Alright then.”

-

Depending on the person you ask, Takashi wasn’t the proper suitor. He certainly was a good companion; but something was…wrong.

Arusians noticed, but did not care. It doesn’t matter if happiness in the public eye was forced; Allura would act the same if her joy was true.

Olkari understood the ebb and flow of kingdoms and politics. It was a tightrope of machinery and emotion. From what they’d seen of the pair, they understood both.

She’s grieving, the Balmerans whisper. Crystals do not grow in depleted ground. Give her time. He’s learning her ways, they say. They will grow and rely on each other in the end.

The Galra believed Takashi was a servant to her, bendable to her whims, not a proper king. They harped high and low about Lotor; his valor and fighting prowess. How he would balance out Allura’s softness and supposed inaction.

The Alteans were accepting. Outside marriages were common, even in royalty, and they understood what was at stake. It was safer to have a glorified guard than someone with ambition. It was a shame that he had such a violent past; if Allura had more time, then she could have chosen better.

Humankind was excited and irritated. Excited, because the chance to move upward into the stars through marriage was appreciated; irritated because Shirogane was a veteran with a broken arm and PTSD. How could an alien, ancient and beyond him, understand what he needs?

All of this chatter didn’t affect the Princess, or her Pilot. They danced, and saw only each other.

-

There was a call incoming. Many times had Allura praised Coran for having the sense to slow down the incoming connections, so she could be ready in time. Shiro seemed to pride himself on an early rest, so it was up to her to intercept. Which was fine, she was the master of this Castle long before he showed up. It was a call from a Balmera, but not one that she knew of.

The Balmeran who answered was a complete surprise. “Umm. Hello! I am Shay.” She nodded in greeting.

“I am Princess Allura of Altea. Why are you calling?”

“We wish to meet with Mr. Shirogane again. I was told that he was on this ship.”

“Yes, he’s sleeping right now. I’ll bring him to you.” Allura deftly pulled up the course for the Castle of Lions and started to discuss their coordinates.

Shiro appeared soon after, having been startled into wakefulness by the call. His face looked a little sour, but it was wiped away the moment he saw the Balmeran. “Shay! It’s good to see you again! How’s everyone doing?”

“They are doing wonderfully! Grandmother is taking care of the little ones; I’m learning how to tend to the Balmera for crystals. It’s been an amazing experience.”

“That’s great.”

“The Balmera has something to show you, Shiro!” Shay smiled, nearly bouncing on the balls of her feet. “But it’s a secret for now! I’ll take you to it!”

“Sounds good!”

“We should be arriving tomorrow.” Allura chimed in. “After breakfast.” She added, because Balmeran cuisine did not agree with her.

“Wonderful!” Shay clapped her rocky hands together. “Signing off!”

“Signing off.” Allura returned. When the screen flickered off, she turned to look at Shiro. But he was already walking away. “Shiro!” she moved quickly, catching him in the hallway. 

“That was the Balmera you helped save, wasn’t it?”

His back was turned away, but he stopped. “That was where you-”

“Where I lost my arm.” He finished for her. “I’ve been back there before. My arm starts to ache, I get anxious too. I keep thinking he’s going to pop out of the shadows and hurt me again.” 

“There has to be something I can do.”

Shiro finally turned to her. Face defeated, he said. “Keith would go with me, but – he’s busy.”

“Is this…sort of an involuntary emotional reaction?”

“Yes.”

“It’s a good thing I know all about that.” Allura smiled, flickering her vines in the air for good measure. “Tell me, what does Keith do? And what do you do when you’re on your own?”

Shiro sighed, “That might take a while. Let’s get some tea.” 

They settled on the couch and he started to relax. It was always treat to see him like this, open and at ease with his surroundings. In certain lights, he almost looked cute. This was the moment that Allura knew she would do as much as she could to keep him content. It was the least she could do, she told herself.

The morning came quickly; The Castle had slowed down on approach as not to arrive too early. Shiro decided to have a light breakfast; Shay’s grandmother does not hold back on feeding someone, even across the species barrier.

For her part, Allura hung back, just exchanging warm greetings. It was altogether strange, not leading the discussion. Shay led them through a network of caves which looked the same in her eyes. Shiro seemed to know differently, with the way he walked, slowly growing more tense. She took her position next to him, slotting her arm in his, subtly guarding his weak side. He smiled weakly in response.

Shay helped them through a hole in the wall, carved out of a cave in. “I’ve done my best to tend to the Balmera. With the unstable ground, this area wasn’t expected to grow crystals for some time. But something called me.” She bent down, pressing her palms to the ground. “They’re still growing, but I can expose them for a little while.”

A small crater rose slowly from the ground. The crystals within were just starting out; small clusters barely a foot tall. But there was something strange; usually, Balmeran crystals were light blue, generating white quintessence. But these were a dusky brown, almost blending in with the yellow ground. “Observe,” Shay reached out, pushing quintessence into the gems. At her touch, a few of them sparkled with a pinkish white color. “I’ve already taken samples for our crafters to study.”

“Did someone come in here? I know that the Galra process their crystals; it turns them purple, corrupts their quintessence.” Allura pointed out.

Shay shook her head. “No. There are only a few who know about this. It seems natural. It’s too early to tell if it will grow into a battle class or stop here.”

Shiro finally spoke up, “What’s going to happen to it?”

“Well. That’s up to you. I have a theory. You were…bleeding out, the term is? So your life force was spilling onto the Balmera. It absorbed the quintessence and is now producing a crystal.” She gestured to the crater. “This is because of you, Shiro.”

“Humans don’t use quintessence.” He said.

“But you live because of it; maybe you accessed it somehow.” Allura argued.

“So it was just a mistake.”

“I don’t think so.” Shay grasped a shard that looked irregular, pruning it from the cluster. “The Balmera would not be safe if it wasn’t for you.” She pressed her hands against the ground, covering the crystals again. She turned around, taking Shiro’s hand. “I would not be safe.” She carefully opened his fingers, pressing the shard into his hand. “This is the most I can do to help you.” He started to shake his head no, but she answered back, “At the least, it’s a divergence of crystal creation. I must study it, for the sake of the Balmera.”

Shiro’s head wobbled, tears started to spill out of his eyes. He caught himself, wiping his sleeve over his eyes. “Ri-right. Thank you, Shay.” A few stray ones kept coming, and his breath hitched a little.

Remembering the discussions last night, Allura tried to regain hold of the situation, “Let’s umm, sit you down-”

His face whipped over to hers, “Nope. Not here.” Shiro said, somehow commanding with a hoarse voice and wet eyes.

Allura had to look away. “Shay? Is that everything you wanted to show us?” she asked.

“Yes. Let’s go back to the surface.”

The outburst he had, combined with his usual insomnia and anxiety had wiped Shiro out. She let him lean on her for support, nearly cradling him. During the long walk back, Allura went over the new information in her head. Shiro had, apparently, given much in a battle to defend the Balmera. It wasn’t publicized much, or else she would have heard and given support. Then again, the only time she’d heard of a sick Balmera being attacked was three years ago when Lotor-

She stopped, and Shiro nearly fell out of her hands, “You’re – you’re the Champion!”

“What?”

-

Because the Princess had been alone before she reached the grove, there was…another version of whom she spoke to.

Some say that the Champion was in attendance that night. If you must know, a monster from the depths of space. They say that he could throw a Tarjeer clear across a room and whip even Olkarins into a frenzy. His eyes are sharp like daggers and his hands quick to battle. He had even fought Lotor to a standstill.

In fact, Lotor was the only one who seemed to know anything concrete about him. The Prince asserted that, by chance, the Champion and he were trying to claim the same Balmera. But he was truly a terrifying opponent, and it took all Lotor had to wound him enough for a calculated retreat. You should know him by the marks he carries; on his arm, a spiral of scars. And on his face, a line over his nose. He was a ghost, only appearing for the one fight, though some claim to have seen him fight before. Lotor assured them that he was a true enemy of the Galra.

Yet somehow, with even Lotor’s presence, the Champion was able to sneak into the meeting. Like a predator, he was waiting for her to be alone, and in the grove, he took his chance. “I know you cannot marry Galra…I know better than anyone.”

“And are you expecting me to fall into your arms, monster?”

“No. But as I understand it, you don’t have much choice. Besides,” he shrugged. “Lotor took something from me. I’d like to ensure he doesn’t have you.”

“I was never his. Or anyone else’s.” 

“If anything, you belong to your people.” The Champion smiled sadly. He sounded wistful, and the Princess felt a small tug of empathy. “The only thing I’m asking, is to not marry Lotor. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to my ship.”

“Wait!” Allura reached out, making Champion turn back to face her. “…you’re here. And you haven’t caused a fight, or misunderstood the etiquette. Why?”

“I used to do this, before, well.” He trailed off, letting her head fill the silence with details. “Couldn’t get thrown out of the party before I met you.”

The Princess paused. “Tell me something. The Balmera – why were you there? It was sick, it wasn’t worth it to fight Lotor over something that couldn’t produce crystals in the short span before armies came.”

“It wasn’t about the crystals. Lotor just thought it would be an easy target. Someone should give him a hard time, it’s not like he can’t handle it. He’s supposed to rule the Galra, after all. So I didn’t go easy.”

Princess Allura considered this, for a moment. “Champion,” she spoke. “Would you like to retire?”

-

He asks her, one day, why there is an arena in the Castle.

She replies, “Displays of strength run deep in Altea’s history. We may advocate for peace, but it’s there to remind us that we need to be ready to defend it.”

And then he asks her about the Gladiator function. “Well, it’s not standard on a diplomat’s ship, I’ll give you that.” Allura smiles as she leads him to the arena. “It’s an intelligent workout machine, simulating an opponent in battle.”

“You mean, like a Drone?” Shiro asked, referencing the Galran technology.

“It’s much more than that.” She preened. “Do you want me to demonstrate?”

“Um. Sure.” He sat down on one of the benches. She kept walking into the locker rooms.

“Sorry. Had to grab my battle suit.” Allura had shifted, back into her fully humanoid form. Her hair was bound up in a bun. At his questioning look, she said, “Don’t you know? 

We’ve evolved to this form because it is the easiest to fight in.” Allura went back to the computer, punching in a few commands, “I used to do this most of the time before my duties got too much. Helped me focus. I should probably start slow.”

She walked into the center of the arena, and the Gladiator came from the walls. It was white, with yellow and black edges. They met in the middle and bowed. Then suddenly both of them ran for each other, punching and ducking and weaving effortlessly. Her suit was white, so she nearly blended into the background, all he could focus on was her hands and her head, which were moving fast. The loud clacking of armor on armor startled him. Then in one clean hit, Allura smacked the head off of the Gladiator. “Well. Whoops. I underestimated myself a bit.” The robot stopped, falling down as its head hit the wall. 

Shiro’s heart was pounding, legs shaking and he swore he could feel the heat coming up his skin. He forgot about his preferences, which really just boiled down to, ‘crushing on anyone who could crush him’. “What-” he managed to get out, “What level was that?”

“Oh. It’s a little bit above easy, actually. I remember being so proud of defeating it as a teenager, and now...” She saw Shiro’s hands clenching his seat. “What?”

“Nothing.” Somehow the fond gaze made him blush even more. 

“Are you one of those types that can’t stand when their partner can fight?”

“Ah-umm. No. it’s just – sorry I haven’t seen a fight like that in a while.” He made himself relax, “It was pretty exciting, yup.”

“Did you want to spar with the Gladiator?”

“Nope!” He shot up waving his hands. “I don’t know my level, anyway.”

“Then face me. I promise I’ll know what level you can start at.”

He shouldn’t. But he moves to the center of the arena anyway, bracing himself. They bowed, and he could see a twinkling in her eye.

Then he saw the floor. Allura was above him, slightly confused. He got up and started to punch. She caught his hand and shoved it away. “This doesn’t make sense!” Allura turned on her side, using one arm to block and one to stroke her chin. “You’re in here every day!” and she reflexively punched him in the jaw. “Oh! Sorry!”

Shiro fell on the mat. “Well.” He sat up. “I do physical therapy exercises, and military exercises. It’s not for fighting; it helps me focus.” She offered a hand and pulled him up. “Plus I have to lift my arm.” He said, “Otherwise, I’d be in the kitchen all day.” Shiro rubbed his jaw, which was turning reddish purple. “I think I’m going to need an icepack.”

“They’re this way. Though let’s scan you in the medical bay first just in case I broke your jaw.”

He muttered in response.

“No, I’m serious.” Her fingers lightly brushed his aside, and she tested his jaw movements. “Mouth pain is the worst.” Allura came in closer, nose almost brushing his chin.  
His heartrate sped up, and his thoughts became a little hazier. She doesn’t get this close, with such ease. Shiro kept still, wanting this moment to last a little longer. Allura tilted his head down, and his eyes immediately went to her lips. But they weren’t quite lips right now, just a gash in the network of branches that made up her face. Does she feel less, or more when she’s like this? Shiro leans forward and ends up pressing his lips to her nose. It wasn’t grainy, as he thought it would be, but smooth, like a shell.

“Ah!” She quickly moved backward, “Shiro, are you alright? Are you having a concussion?” Allura reached to smooth his hair, searching for a warm spot. She took his hand and tugged him away. “We must get you to a pod.”

The Medical Pod, miracle worker it may be, could not work with his prosthetic. So he takes it off, and subjects himself to the shivering that follows after a healing. Allura shakes her head and leads him to the television room right outside the kitchen. She dug a blanket from somewhere and pressed a warm mug of something in his only hand. Then she started banging around in the kitchen, trying to heat up some cookie dough. He stumbled off the couch, still wrapped in his blanket and set the oven and timer to the sound of her objections. A blink and he was back on the couch, Allura beside him and fresh cookies between them. A galactic celebrity show was on the television, the slug girl host chatting it up with a Queen mermaid in a tank.

“Are you feeling better?” Allura asks softly. “I was reading about your species: you’re going to need some rest, even after the Medical Pod finishes. Nothing that will raise your heartrate.”

“Television is good.” He said.

She smiles, a little pained. “I…I suppose this isn’t the time, but you’ve been having troubles, and I want to help.”

Shiro nodded, chewing on a cookie.

“You have this…fear of Lotor.” He stilled, “Which is perfectly founded, by the way, he’s a formidable opponent, and does hold some power in the Alliance.” She rattled off, “What if I could show you things that could…lessen your fear?”

“…go on?”

“My father and Emperor Zarkon used to work together. I have some…embarrassing pictures of him as a child. And as an adult.” Her eyebrows knitted together. “He’s also very popular in the celebrity gossip shows. I can find you a compilation on the net. We don’t have to do it now, but…”

Shiro sets the mug down, and holds her hand. “Tomorrow.” And her vines relax, her hair lies down, relieved.

-

Now, all relationships aren’t without their troubles. Takashi had seen battle, and his arm was removed due to irreparable damage. He was given a replacement, metal and wires synced to his nervous system, that could grasp, feel warmth and cold. Takashi had that model for years before he met the Princess, used to the questions, the irregularities, the stares.

When the Princess found out about Takashi’s battle damage, she immediately charted a course for a proper doctor. When he realized, he objected, telling her that his arm was working fine.

“But not perfect,” Allura said, walking them through the Olkarian capital. Several eyewitnesses reported Takashi to be uncomfortable, even hostile.

“But it’s mine. It’s part of me. I won’t do this.”

“If it’s an issue of money, then I can take care of it.”

“That’s exactly it. I can’t let you do that. I can’t let a part of myself be yours.” He sighed and looked at his hands. “And what if we break up? Are you going to take it back? I just want this to stay mine.”

“Shiro…” she reached out to his arm.

“Don’t touch me!” He flinched, shouting in anger. Then his face crumpled in sadness. “It’s just…you’re so perfect, and I’m…a broken soldier.” Takashi clenched his fists, “Why are we doing this? We both know you deserve a Prince, or just someone better. Someone whole.”

“Listen to me.” Allura wrapped her arms around him, “You know I’m not perfect, and you still like me. That makes you better than every other suitor.” She grasped his hands, “I’m sorry I didn’t realize your arm meant so much to you. You can deal with your arm on your own terms. I should trust you with that.”

Takashi pressed his forehead against hers, softly smiling. “Yeah, I know.” He said softly. “What are you gonna do with me?”

“Hmm. For now? Dinner.”

-

CONSORT OF A NEW QUEEN – BUT ALSO A DANGEROUS ALLY? WE DOVE INTO TAKASHI’S CLOUDED PAST – WHAT WE FOUND WILL SHOCK YOU!

“It’s the 25th century, will clickbait ever go away?” Shiro grumbled into his bowl of icing. At least the picture was cute. A few weeks ago, planetside after a meeting, it started to rain. Allura grew a huge flower, enough to provide shelter. They were huddled underneath it, close and smiling. The effect was ruined when a repeating animation focused in on Shiro’s face and faded into black and white.

Allura scraped her finger against the side of the bowl. “In my experience, no. But we’ve got our best people on it; and it’s not like it’s terrible. You were given a job, it’s not your fault that Lotor didn’t want to fall to a ‘puny human’.”

“I…know.” He let Allura take the tablet away. The kitchen was filled with cookies; snickerdoodles, sugar, chocolate chip, lemon, peanut butter, and almond. A mixture of sweet and savory smells drifted throughout the Castle. Cinnamon rolls were proofing in the oven, and a large olive and pepperoni pizza was ready next to the television. “I think stress-baking is my new hobby.” He covered the icing and put it aside.

“Well, you will certainly have enough food to entertain your doctor tomorrow.”

“Are you sure you’re alright with him coming?”

“I’ve had guests over before. Now come, sit down. It’s time for the movie!” She took his hand and led him to the couch. “I cannot believe you’ve never sat down and watched this one! It’s a classic!”

“What’s it about?

“A maid finds out that she’s related to royalty, then she has to face each of her half-siblings in politics and in doing so, finds what she can do, how she can protect the world. Also there’s a man-wolf guard that’s super-loyal and very attractive!”

Shiro smiled, “Should I be jealous?”

“No, Channing Tatum has been dead for deca-pheobs, you have nothing to worry about, sweetie!” Allura kept smiling. Then they both started to laugh.

The movie was long, and Shiro had to get up to finish the cinnamon rolls. Allura kept up a running commentary so he wouldn’t miss out. In the end, the most evil sibling’s refinery blew up, the maid stole a kiss from her guard, and they flew off together into the sunset.

The pair sat for a little bit longer, wrapped up in their blankets. “Shiro?” Allura whispered, “Are you going to bed?”

“In a bit.” He was sleep heavy and soft spoken. Etiquette was lost in this state, but Allura didn’t mind. He often said sweeter things they could use later. He missed his calling; he could have been a romance novelist, the way he strung words together.

Back to the matter at hand. “Good. Because you’re really crushing my arm.” It wasn’t too painful for her, but she must move sometime.

“Oh that’s nothing new.” Shiro’s eyes were still closed.

“You ‘crushing’ me?” she tried to ask. Was it another Earth term?

“Nah, I’ve got a crush on you.” He yawned, “Means I really…like you.” And Shiro shifted, resting his head upon her chest.

Her lifevine twisted in her trunk. Surely he didn’t mean – she wanted to wake him up, ask him again. He was out cold, hair ruffled. Her hand raised instinctively to smooth it, but she didn’t dare. They’ve grown close, she told herself. And maybe because of their plans, he might have his wires crossed. But wouldn’t that be wonderful? That this mad scheme to defend her power led her to a dutiful lover? Yet a thought pierces her; does she love him in return?

Allura certainly enjoys his company, and wouldn’t mind traveling with him. Yet she was always told love was this passionate thing; full of wanting and firesparks. Shiro’s affections were more…a steady rock to hold onto. And wouldn’t that be cruel? Someone loving her and not receiving love back? The idea scares her so much her thorns come out. Allura tries not to jostle him, just rubbing her knuckles on his back soothingly. She’d have to think on this further. 

In the meantime, “Shiro,” she says forcefully, "Wake up. It’s time to go to your room.”

He picks his head up, sees her and smiles.

Disgusted, she tips him onto the floor.

…

Shiro is up early again, waiting at the hanger. He’s practically bouncing on his feet, with absolutely no memory of what happened last night, aside from the spill and crawling into his bunk. She would like to keep what he said quiet, and observe.

Allura was with him as well, curious to meet his doctor. Alteans had no use for prosthetics; with the right nutrients, one could grow their own limb back. 

There were two people coming out of the ship. One was a broad, heavyset man with dark skin. He wore a green vest and a dark yellow shirt, and had on fingerless gloves. An orange headband, presumably to push back his bangs, was on his forehead. Hunk’s face was open, showing some awe and wonder at the Castle. He was wheeling in crates; presumably, with his equipment. Allura sighed, did Shiro remember to tell him that their engineering section was open?

The second one was smaller, and slightly more familiar. Seeing the Ambassador’s daughter in civilian clothing was…strange. Her hair was wild, fluffed up nest of reddish brown, contrasting with her pale skin and green shirt. The only thing she carried was a rectangle: perhaps a personal computer?

The pair were practically the opposite in physical matters, and yet they were chatting comfortably, at ease. When they saw her, they bowed. Hunk in particular looked a little intimidated; flicking between her and Shiro.

“Please, you are guests in our home. Do not trouble yourselves with unneeded etiquette.” Allura asked. 

It was like someone pressed play. “Shiro! How’s it been?” Hunk embraced his patient, then gestured to his companion. “This is my partner Pidge: they’re a software programmer.”

“Pidge? Isn’t that-?”

“It’s Pidge Gunderson now. They/them pronouns. I’m trying to get away from my family’s reputation, so-” They gestured to themself, “New name, new outfits, new me!”

“Right. Of course. I hope you like the same food though.”

“Wait-you made food?” Hunk perked up. “Lead the way!”

The medical visit actually turned more into a social one. It was mostly Hunk and Shiro making light talk. Allura wanted to join in; Hunk had been with Shiro since the beginning of his journey. It was important that they were comfortable with each other; both of them wanted Shiro to be healthy.

And then Pidge sidled up to her, mouth full of peanut butter cookies. They squinted up, through their round glasses. “Have we met?”

“We met a few months ago, you were in a suit, then.” There was nothing, “You were covering for Matt.” Her voice betrayed her irritation.

“Oh! Right, yeah, sorry about that.” They gulped. “I’m glad you found Shiro, though.”

“Me too.” Allura lazily nibbled on an almond cookie. She didn’t need it, but it did taste pretty good. “Say, why are you here? It’s just an arm, like dropping off a part of an engine, right?”

“I’m here because of my programming skills! I’ve been studying Altean tech since before we met: Matt really encouraged me. Hunk’s good at coding, but not my level. He wanted me to make sure the plating prints correctly.”

“…what?”

“You’ll understand when we get to it.” They sighed. “It’s tragic that one of the most technologically advanced aliens can’t even follow something as simple as coding.”

“I have to run a planet! I have to make sure none of you get caught in an interstellar war because of the tech you create! I’m sorry I don’t spend my time surrounded by machinery!”

“But you do!” Their hands flailed about at the kitchen.

“I don’t maintain it! Shiro couldn’t even figure out the oven when he got here: we had to look up a tutorial!”

Their brown eyes centered in on Shiro, “Seriously?” Pidge deadpanned.

Allura took her chance, getting down on her level. “It took him forever to figure out the auto-cooling mechanism. His cookies would come out ice-cold!” she snickered, silently praying for his forgiveness.

Pidge started to snort, “I knew he wasn’t a tech guy: but really?”

“They were like little scaultrite disks! His casserole could’ve knocked someone out!” Pidge’s laughter continued to rise, and she went for the kill, “His soufflé was a lethal weapon!”

That got an ungraceful laugh. They smiled again at Allura, and she knew she had them. First rule of diplomacy: become fast friends. “Did Shiro ever talk about Matt?”

“Not much,” she leaned forward, conspiring, “what’s he like?”

Pidge’s smile turned mischievous. Allura was then regaled with childish stories of growing up with an older sibling. She replied with dastardly tales about herself and her cousins. 

Shiro finally finds it in himself to take them to the engineering chamber. Appropriate oohing and ahhs came from the mechanics. Allura had taken the initiative to bring in a comfy chair and some medical supplies, just in case.

Hunk finished emptying out his crates: a new arm sat on the counter, entirely metal, with pads on the fingertips. It was thin, with a square power source and just the bones. “Yeah, well I thought about what you asked, Shiro. This is an ultra-durable under arm. Pidge, if you wouldn’t mind?”

“Yup!” their laptop projected a schematic. There was another piece of the arm: elastic skin combined with rounded, metal plates. They were separated to allow movement. “Since you have a 3D printer, you can create new looks for your arm.” The plates were swapped out: instead of grey blobs, it had flames etched on the sides with a splash of color. Then a deep green one, with bright plumeria flowers. Pidge cycled through a few, “Hunk had some great ideas, so you’ve got plenty of choices.” They busied themselves with hooking up to the 3D printer. “But I made a customization menu. So you can match dresses or something.” Pidge clicked through a few shades, even showing off the color mixer. “What do you want to try?”

“Umm, I’m not sure…? Black goes with everything, so I’ll try that.”

“This is just the test one, to see if the 3D printing works. You can toss it.” Hunk assured.

Allura piped in, “How about white? You can see where the damage is happening.”

“Solid choice. I woulda gone with yellow…”

“Sorry guys I made the choice. It’s green.”

“Pidge!”

There was a harsh beep. It was finished. “That’s…fast.” Hunk noted.

“That’s what a Princess gets.” Pidge shrugged. “I’m glad we’re not stuck like this all day.” They opened up the chamber, picking up the finished sleeve. “Alright, chop chop Shiro, get your shirt off.”

He sat down in the chair, blushing furiously. The T-shirt was shucked, folded neatly on the table. Shiro undid the straps and pulled his old prosthetic off. Hunk gave him a new compression sock before fitting the new skeleton piece on. They went through some basic exercises, flexing and testing the individual fingers. Allura filed this information away for later, if Shiro needed her help.

Then Pidge presented the sleeve. He slid it on, carefully. Large metal plates slotted into place over his bicep, his forearms, and over his palm. Connecting all of that was cloth like material, sliding over the joints and giving them room to flex.

“Well?” he asked.

Allura snorted, “It looks ridiculous, you look like a sapling latched onto you, oh ho ho ho!” truly, it was a garish color of green, not complimenting his pinkish-brown body at all.

Shiro’s face pulled a disapproving frown, “Ok then.” He finally stood, testing the weight. “Not bad. You sure it doesn’t need straps?”

“Nah, tech has moved a little beyond that. This is actually lighter than your old one, thanks to the power source you got me.”

“Power source?” Allura asked.

“Yeah! Shiro sent me a crystal. It was actually just the right size and energy output for this.” Hunk handed him a grip tester. “He’s really lucky.”

“Yes, I suppose he is.” Allura shot him a fond smile. 

Pidge and Hunk ended up staying the night. After a few long hours in the engineering room, they decided to relax and watch a movie. Shiro’s new arm curled around her. He had settled on a silver one, like his name. It was a strange texture, but she’ll get used to it.

-

Lotor wasn’t a stranger to the rumor mill: he encouraged his reputation as a decisive, violent leader. Some would even say he reveled in it. Being heir apparent of the Galra Empire meant that he must be seen as strong, or else.

His father, Emperor Zarkon, did not agree with his methods. And when Lotor attacked a Balmera under the protection of a former enemy, he made an ultimatum. This was the last time that he would come to Lotor’s defense. “The people need a steady leader, not one that threatens war on a whim. You are cut off until you can prove to me that you can perceive the entire Empire: not just what concerns yourself.”

Lotor was banished. But…not for long.

It was known, but not remembered, that Alfor of Altea and Zarkon of Drule had worked together when they were younger. With their combined strength, the Alteans and the Galrans killed the Pirate King Sincline and destroyed his armies. Yet a wedge was between them; a difference of ruling. But in a rare time of crisis, Zarkon asked for a private meeting with Alfor at Lignum Palace.

No one knew what they spoke of. Because, quite suddenly, a flash came from the sky. Bystanders felt like the air was being sucked out of them. Most of the Palace staff died, some became ill. The rulers were found in a crater, quintessence sucked out of them. The ground became bleached white, empty of life. Lignum Palace crumbled into itself, a shell. It was an unexplainable tragedy, like a lightning bolt from the Goddess. 

Lotor was called back into the Empire by its Chief Alchemist, Haggar. Though he was not yet old enough to rule, he promised to live up to his father’s strength and become a powerful Emperor.

Princess Allura was on Altea, but not at the Palace. She wept, and could not be seen for days. Soon after, a rally of Pollux Beasts were seen wandering the planet; yet they were not destroying, as they do in battle. The Alteans were unconcerned, as the Pollux were in mourning. The universe was concerned for the safety of Altea. A small Arusian guard, headed by Klaizap, the bravest of Arus, asked for entry.

The Princess had gathered herself and refused. “The Pollux are of my kind. Do not interfere. I am the Princess of Altea, they will follow me.” Miraculously, by the next day, the beasts had left, back to the large, sweeping forests from where they came. The Princess would make a fine Queen, but she was not yet old enough.

Allura returned to the stars, continuing her mission to bring peace. But she will come back to her home.

-

It was The Day. Rather, it was two years since The Day.

Shiro and Allura arrived on Altea earlier that week. The Princess asked him to step out on the balcony together, and they saw hundreds of Alteans. Every shade of bright hair, skin the varied mottled browns, beiges and close to black, all gathered here at the Castle of Lions.

The Princess and her guard waved politely. Then she bent over the railing, calling out in joy to Coran, the Royal Advisor. Then she ran to the door in excitement, and turned around. “I’m coming down!” she said again. She was too fast, she sprinted over the railing. 

“Allura!” Shiro’s heart pounded. He pressed himself up against the gate, hand outstretched, reaching. He had the perfect view for what Allura did. Immediately, she grew a gigantic leaf for a parachute. She drifted easily down, landing right next to Coran and embracing him. The princess looked up, smiled and waved at him to come down. Shiro could only wheeze, before he jerked his thumb backwards, to the door. He’ll take the stairs, thank you. 

The Alteans had already done their greeting speeches by the time he got down. Coran immediately embraced him, pulling Shiro in a quick hug and pecking him on both cheeks, “I’ve done some research on Earth, don’t cha know?” the Advisor was chipper. His face was less elastic than Allura’s; full of wrinkles and laugh lines. But there was an energy to it, to his body that the little voice in his head that told him ‘not right, possibly dead, kinda creepy’ was quieted.

Allura, Coran, and Shiro took an insect-drawn carriage to the Folium Estate. Along the way, Coran and Allura were talking animatedly about the state of the planet. “You do call every night, Princess. There’s not much more I can share with you.” He admitted. He drew back the curtain, “But I can at least show you progress on the memorial.” The ground underneath them was white, too white, it hurt Shiro’s eyes. But where the Palace stood; the ground was tilled and flat. There was a space cleared out, lined with a golden material. 

“The finished stone is waiting to be placed at the ceremony, Princess.”

“Thank you for handling this, Coran. I can’t imagine how hard it’s been.” Shiro spoke up.

“The King was my oldest friend; it does me good to see his memories preserved.” Coran slowed down, and he could see the fatigue affect him.

Soon they were at the Folium Estate. It was a mansion, with walls of stone and plenty of open windows. Flowers were painted on the walls, and plants grew from the floor, crawling up the walls. It was like an enclosed garden. The floors were tile, but in the suite that Shiro and Allura were given, some of the earth was exposed. The pair stared at the bed they were given. It wasn’t small, it was just hard to imagine both of them in it without being…intimate. “Does Coran know?” He asked.

Allura scoffed, “Coran came up with the idea. He went through the candidate files personally. I…couldn’t even think of romance, so I let him do it.”

“You just let someone pick your husband?”

“It’s not like I didn’t set standards.” Allura’s voice grew soft, “It’s Coran. He’s like a second father to me.” Thorns started to slowly grow out of her hands. She sat down on the bed. Pools of tears gathered in her eyes, “My father…oh, I was so angry when I heard.” Shiro sat next to her. “At Zarkon, for the meeting, at the Goddess, for taking him away. I changed into something terrible, and I couldn’t change back. I didn’t want to change back.” Allura was suddenly taller than Shiro, bent over into her hands, weeping.

Shiro wrapped his hand around what he could, and rubbed soothingly. “But you did change.” He said.

“Just to stop Altea from being harmed. I went into the Castle and I never looked back.” The full force of her gaze was upon him. “Now I’m here, and the Palace is gone. I can’t-” she hiccupped, “I can’t even look at it without my lifevine rending itself in two.”

“You don’t have to.” He said, pleadingly. 

“I must! I have to help them grieve properly. Even if I can’t.”

“You can grieve, you can recover. It’s terrible, what happened.” Shiro rubbed her back, metal hand undamaged by the nettles in her hair. “But we still remember the good things, and we don’t let grief hold us back. Take a breath, and let it go when you’re ready, okay?”

“Okay.” She sniffled, “Shiro?” Allura asked quietly.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

-

The Princess gave a stunning speech, sure to be emulated and referred back to for generations. Behind her, was the Memorial, a dark pink stone with black flecks, pink being the color of grieving, black being of military might. Carved on it were the names of the many Altean soldiers who had fought against Sincline, King Alfor and Emperor Zarkon among them. On her left was her father’s advisor, Coran. On her right was Takashi, a now expected presence.

Rumors were swirling, even more now than before. Surely, this relationship had gone on for long enough. Was Allura too busy to propose? She must do it soon; Takashi’s race didn’t seem the patient type.

One of the journalists got cocky; sneaking up to speak with only Takashi. She ran through the usual gamut of questions; it would land her in good graces for sure, no one had gotten an interview alone with him. Making the most of it, she asked a question that made his pale skin turn red.

“Yeah well I am a part of a sexual species but that’s private, between myself and Allura…”

“So you have done it, then?”

“I-I never said that! It’s just that it’s not polite to talk about that…at all. So, next question, please.”

The journalist consulted a human cultural translator about the incident. Turns out it was an old tradition; sex was seen as unclean and affects a woman’s value, so a partner would lie to protect her reputation. Some would even hold off mating until marriage. Strange lives, these humans lead. She put a cultural note in with Shiro’s answers and sent it to her editor.

When it was published, the consensus from the Alteans was, “How caring! His first instinct was to protect the Princess! Surely he’d be a fine Prince Consort.”

When it reached Earth, the consensus from the human population was, “He did it. I dunno how, but he f**ked a plant.”

-

Something…strange had happened to Allura. When she was at the Castle, her form would change, usually to a smaller Pollux Beast, barely recognizable. Shiro had come to expect it, and figured out how to read her emotions through her voice and body language. Yet now, she had changed into…something in between. Instead of branches twined together into a vague expression, or smiling, perfect petal-like skin, it was porous, rubbery, with laugh lines and pink marks. Her hands had claws, and her legs were thick and broad, but her hair never had thorns, or nettles.

Over the past few months, Shiro had asked himself which Allura was truly her. Maybe this was the answer.

“Shiro?” She asked, one day after dinner, “What did your friend Matt e-mail me?”

“Let’s see…” he turned bright red, “Well, umm the literal translation is.” He exhaled, “‘Congratulations. You…f**ked a plant.’”

“I…mated with vegetation?” her wrinkles deepened as she became distraught, “Shiro I would never do that! I wouldn’t cheat on you with another!”

“No! No it’s not that…he thinks you slept with me.”

“But you’re flesh and blood!”

“Yeah but…it’s complicated.” Shiro dragged a hand along his face, “It’s an in-joke.” He really hopes he doesn’t have to draw diagrams. “I’m the plant.”

“Clearly you’re not! And unless I missed something very significant, we haven’t done anything.”

“I know. And I’m really happy with that. With-” he puts his hands out, trying to gesture to their relationship, “this.” Shiro sighed, “I’d better tell you about asexuality. In humans.”

Allura frowned, puzzling the thought out, but lets him keep talking. A few things slot into place for her; but she can ask more later. At the end, she thanks him, wraps her arms around him, assures him that his body, heart, and mind are well, and sends him off for the night.

Then, because she doesn’t know what else to do, Allura goes into the nearest room and screams into a pillow. If she ever had a serious relationship after this, sexual compatibility would be the first thing they’d discuss. Waiting for Shiro to confess himself had been a nightmare Allura would not want to repeat. Allura pulled her face out of the pillow, flopping on the bed. Her vines were wriggling, betraying her happiness.

How in the Goddess’s name did she ever find him?

-

The Mall shook in the explosion. One enterprising Unilu grabbed his personal camera: his people owned this mall, they might need extra proof. One of the stores on the first level had been destroyed, a cloud of smoke obscuring his view.

Suddenly, something darted quickly out. He couldn’t see it at first, but it seemed like a biped, with its arms backward, holding a gun and shouting. Behind them was a stampede of mole pigs, followed by the shopkeeper, Viral. The shark man caught something, then whistled harshly. The mole pigs stopped in their tracks, hurrying back to the disaster zone.   
He pressed replay. It was easier to see: it was the Princess of Altea! Carrying her boyfriend, Talka-whoever. Allura was effortlessly carrying her bodyguard, wide grin on her face. Takashi was panicked, gesturing wildly at the shop as it crumbled. His legs were nearly wrapped around her torso and he was throwing something into Viral’s golden paws. 

As a loyal, non-gossipy Unilu citizen, he is simply concerned for his fellow businessman. Viral told him exactly what happened. “Boota” he shows off the tiny mole-pig, “doesn’t understand stranger danger.” And he left it at that. “I’d better get apology money.”

He sells it to the press for thousands in GAC and his uncle lets Viral out of his lease without issue.

-

Allura was dreading this visit to Drule, and Shiro couldn’t say that he wanted to go either. They agreed on codewords and reassurances. Shiro jokingly suggested that they sneak off into little corners and start making out. “I dunno, maybe it would make them uncomfortable?” he added.

Allura pinched her eyebrows at that, and his heart skipped a beat. The rest of the afternoon was filled with practice. Hesitant at first, with shaking hands and eyes open. Then they made it into a game: Allura pulled out the wedding lists and they would take turns ‘distracting’ each other with easy touches and sly words. Shiro found it easier if he just focused on Allura; her pliant lips, solid frame, and light woodland scent. Allura found out Shiro needed to breathe every so often. Both of them wished that they had tried this earlier.  
But, it had to end. 

Lotor was there to greet them, their host and tour guide to the massive weapons foundry on Drule. Allura played her part perfectly, cordial and totally distracted by her loving fiancé. She felt soft and yielded easily at his touch, and took his hand and placed it at her hip. They dipped into an alcove, dimly aware of the Galran Prince’s eager prattling.  
Allura was shorter than him, so he tilted his head downward, feeling their breaths mix in the air. This was show time. Allura gulped in some air and leaned in first. Shiro angled his head, pressing his lips to hers, breaking apart after a heartbeat. He brought his hand up; the prosthetic one, the numb one but somehow at this second his entire nervous system was sparking, he could feel every strand of her spiderslik hair. Shiro leaned in again, parting his lips just slightly.

“Ah-Erm!” Lotor was standing in front of them.

It was fair to say that he jumped. Allura neatly stepped away from him, taking his hand and letting it rest between them. Shiro could feel the blush rising from his skin.

Lotor was displeased, obviously, but there was a slight hint of a smile. “I hope you are finished. Haggar would probably fuse your lips together if she saw you. That’s your only warning.” 

“Well. Thank you for that, Lotor.” Allura strode quickly ahead, dismissing him. Shiro was about to follow, but their guide hung back with him.

Lotor focused his eyes on Shiro. “You have a manner about yourself, like you don’t deserve her. You’re right.” He smiled, confident. “A true warrior knows that everything is for the taking.”

“Don’t you know, Lotor? The more you take, the less you have.” He smiled right back.

“What?” Lotor’s nose crinkled, eyes squinted as he puzzled that out. “Clearly you would have the same amou-?” he started to say, but Shiro was already walking away.  
His hand was twitching, the connections and wires responding to nothing. Allura was at his side, looking at his palm. “…are you alright, Shiro?” 

“Yeah. I think the hand’s on the fritz. I’ll just-” he stopped and stepped to her other side. “You can hold this one.” 

“Yes, there is a complex signal jammer at the center of this foundry. I had no idea it might interfere with your false part, Takashi. I promise to make the rest of this trip short.” Lotor was back to business, voice flat and curt.

“Wonderful.” Allura said. “We’d hate to impose.” She squeezed his hand tight in excitement. Their plan worked.

Lotor just sneered and opened the inner sanctum. Most of the employees were cleared out; the one that remained was Haggar. She greeted them with thinly veiled irritation at their presence. The purpose of this visit was to ensure that the Galra did not have weapons in development that might drastically affect other planets.

Haggar was tiredly explaining that they all were inside the parameters, not even close to them, in fact. “Nothing as dangerous as those Pollux Beasts.” She snarked, at the end. “Where did you hide them, dear Princess?”

“Oh, they’re in a place where they can’t do anyone harm.” Allura smiled.

“It’s a shame, I had a product in development specifically for them. But we don’t have any subjects.” She sounded disappointed, which made the hairs on Shiro’s neck raise. “I was wondering if you would like to take it with you for further study.” Hagger gestured to a workbench with a few filled vials and a case ready to go.

“Dispose of it, then. Alteans already have techniques to control the Pollux.”

“Very well.” Haggar made a move to close the case, and her heavy robes hit a vial and it shattered on the floor. The bright pink liquid was bubbling, evaporating quickly on the tile. 

“Mother!” Lotor shouted, covering his mouth and nose. “Why are you so clumsy?” he staggered, finding the ‘emergency spill’ lever and slamming it down.

Haggar smiled, all teeth. “It shouldn’t be poisonous to Galra.” There was smoke rising from the ground. Emergency lights were on, and the fans were far from the site.

“Well. I’m human, so-” Shiro took Allura’s arm and started to run. “We’ll call!” He tossed over his shoulder, not bothering for an answer.

Allura was keeping up with him, holding on tight. She started to cough into her fist, “Somethings-wrong I can’t-” the hand grew large and crackled. “Shiro!”

They had this place mapped out; they both knew that this hallway didn’t have cameras, there was no point. Shiro took advantage and turned back to look at her. The pink marks on her cheeks, usually covered by make-up, were glowing. Her hair was shaking itself into thorny branches. He felt a slight pinch from the way smaller vines wrapped around his prosthetic. “It’s fine, we just-”

“Shiro! Leave me! I can’t control it!” she said, terrified.

“I’m not leaving you.”

“I’m going to break through the ceiling!” At this, she had to bend down to keep talking. Bursts of vines came from her back, feeling out the roof. Her body was nearly swallowed, only her face was visible through the thicket of branches and vines. 

Shiro put his other hand in hers. He was about to say something calming, to ease the panic in her blue eyes but-

“MY GODDESS! WHAT IS HAPPENING IN HERE?” The shrill voice of Lotor was just beyond the thicket of vines.

Allura’s face twisted, “Ugh! That man!” she turned away, “that monster!” Shiro could only squeeze her finger as she left him. A carved mask covered her face. The ceiling creaked and she burst through; the dim inside replaced by bright sunlight. Allura was on the move, heavy legs, thick as tree trunks, made craters in the ground. Vines and branches draped from her back, writhing and shaking as she screeched.

He couldn’t help it. “Allura!” Shiro called after her.

Lotor was standing at the other end of the hall, mouth open. The prince shook his head, recovering, “Where in the universe did that beast come from?” His eyes landed on Shiro, and he thought up a lie.

“Allura brought it in. It’s her guard.” He glared, “Why did you set it off?”

He pointedly ignored the question, “Not a very smart one, attacking the facility.” Lotor produced a communicator from his pocket. “Guards! There’s a breach in the foundry! Come at once!” He looked around and smirked, “It seems your love has left you.”

“She’s heading to the Castle. If you’ll excuse me,” Shiro started to run after her, but he was stopped by a row of Drones.

“Not to worry,” Lotor clapped a hand on his shoulder, “I’m handing it myself.”

“No,” Shiro whispered to himself. Allura would get hurt. But he bit down and said, “That’s a part of Altean culture, you can’t destroy it!”

Allura moved quickly, striding across the plains. She stretched her hand down, tearing off a piece of the foundry and tossing it towards Lotor. One of the Drones blasted it, letting debris and dust rain down on the group.

“Would you prefer it to destroy us?” He gave a quick wave of his hand, the Drones surrounded Allura. “I’ve killed my share of them in the Wars…this will be a nice workout.”

“No. This is an Altean guard. I’m Allura’s fiancé, I’ll take charge because she isn’t here.” Shiro said, low and steady. 

Lotor’s eyebrow twitched, “So you aren’t just a pillow for her Majesty to lie with.” he sneered. “You’re a good little servant. Fine! I’ll call them off, but help won’t come quickly when the rest of your limbs are ripped from your torso.”

“I’ll call the conference room when it’s settled in the Castle. In the meantime,” he pointed to Allura, “Get. Everyone. Out.”

The Prince huffed, tapping a few buttons on his device to get the Drones back in order.

Shiro walked quickly to catch up to her. “Hello!” he shouted, tapping at one of the branches. The reaction was immediate, her hand swooped down, picking him up. It wasn’t a crushing pressure, his torso secure with his arms free, so he waved, smiling. The mask was solid, with intricate swoops and curls filled with a radiant pink glow. It was so strange that something people considered so deadly and terrifying could be so beautiful. Shiro breathed, in and out. Then he started to trace letters on her wrist. Altean letters, ones that Allura taught him. The constant whipping of her vines stilled. His prosthetic still twitched, he kept it steady with his other hand.

“Shiro! Are you dead? Because I have a wonderful shot and-” Lotor was underneath them, waving his pistol about.

“NO!” It was too late. Allura pressed him to her side, branches growing underneath his feet to cradle him close to her chest. A small thicket shielded him from the outside, but there was space to see. Allura was already attacking, thorny vines whipping at the Galran on the ground. Shiro needed to stop him before he did something more stupid. “Lotor! It’s fine! Just-HOLD THIS!” he shouted. Shiro looked around inside the little nest-there was nothing he could throw. His hand kept shaking, and he had an idea. He unzipped his coat, reaching under his shirt to press at the release of his prosthetic. He dug under the skin, tearing out the power cell. No use in wasting the crystal. The branches suddenly opened up, he threw the arm down and hit Lotor straight on the head.

“OW! WHAT-? EXPLAIN YOURSELF!”

“Whoops! Sorry! I guess I’ve got butterfingers!” Shiro slipped a hand into his pocket, grabbing his phone. He opened the app that Pidge designed; one that connected with his prosthetic.

“You do not have fatty fingers! They’re metal!” how did his voice carry this far up? Shiro wondered. The branches caging him in had even reacted, growing tighter.

“It’s an expression!” Shiro found the appropriate button. Then he took a huge breath in and pressed it. There was a small ‘ding!’ from the ground. Shiro put his phone away and started to pet the bark surrounding him. “Allura, you might want to go faster.” He whispered. “Woah!” the room swayed with the sudden change in speed. Shiro was pitched backward, head cracking against the floor. “Ow.”

There was a small tremble in the branches. Shiro guessed the self-destruct worked. A leaf, he guessed, started to pet his head. He heard a voice outside.

“QUIZNAKKING HUMAN TECHNOLOGY! I AM NEVER DEALING WITH YOUR SHODDY HANDWORK-NO GALRA WILL EVER USE HUMAN TECHNOLOGY so help me I’ll destroy every last bit of it in the Empire!” the voice faded away.

Yeah. It worked.

-

It was a miracle that came from a disaster.

A Pollux Beast, the most feared of Altean weaponry, was set off on accident. The Princess was quickly spirited away, and as a result Takashi was able to prove himself. Everyone who had reservations about the marriage agreed that a lesser being would have just killed the beast. Takashi’s knowledge and dedication to preserving Altean life made him exceptional.

The incident had made the Princess go into seclusion; she needed time to resettle the Pollux. The few that saw her said that she was exhausted, and Takashi wasn’t immune to the work either. The beast had damaged his prosthetic; and it became almost normal to see his sleeve tied where his body should be whole. 

Yet, in a month’s time, Takashi was seen down on one knee, presenting Allura with rings, in the traditional Earth fashion. The Princess smiled, and gave him her gift; a brand new arm. It was handsome, all black, with silver swirls and engravings on the edges of its panels.

(Surely they had to plan that misunderstanding; an arm, perfectly fit on the first try? Preposterous. The notion was cute, though.)

Their wedding was set in the middle of the Juniberry Festival in Altea, where the flowers would be in perfect bloom.

-

Though the wedding was planned out, in lists and bits and pieces, there were still final things to be done. Coran was helping out for the most part; he’d taken up residence in the Castle for the week. When the two got back from their cake tasting, he was nowhere to be found. Instead there was the mockup table for them to go over, and a box. The table was great, the box was a curiosity.

It was wooden, about three feet deep, with steps on either side. It was about the size of a doorway. There were symbols painted on the side, one of which was the Crest of Altea.   
“I can’t believe this survived.”

“What is it?”

“My father sprouted in this. And his father, and some of his cousins…” she made a wistful noise. “After I was uprooted, it was probably put in storage. Coran found it, most likely.”

“Why is it here?”

“It’s part of a wedding tradition. You see, the couple does not wear shoes during the ceremony and stand in the dirt while they say their vows. The idea is that on this happy day, they would both be overflowing with quintessence, and it would prime the soil for their first child.”

“So it’s like a cradle. Or their first bed.”

“I’m sure we could skip it; we’re entirely incompatible. I…wouldn’t want to have children, anyway.” Allura braced herself.

“That’s fine. Some people aren’t built for it.”

“And you?”

“…put me in charge of a classroom, I’m okay. Day to day stuff…I’m not sure.” Shiro starts rubbing his prosthetic hand. “Remember when I yelled at Slav? I don’t want to be that way to a kid.”

Allura takes his hand in hers, “You’re not built for it.” She echoed.

He nodded, smiling again. “Yeah. That means we can do all the stupid stuff we want, right?” Shiro’s mood lightened.

“Like what?”

She shrieks as he picks her up and twirls her around. “Go to R-rated movies. Stay up late, because we want to, run off to the beach, use curse words. Say dumb things and not worry if we’re teaching anyone wrong.”

“What kind of dumb things?” Allura asks, breathless.

“Something like,” and he sidles close, picking her up again for the heck of it “I love you.” He said, kissing her cheek.

She had little butterflies jostling her lifevine. But her face turned serious. Shiro faltered, putting her back on the ground, “That’s great for the plan, then.” She told him, suddenly not able to look him in the eye. “Because I love you too.” A smile took a hold of her, and she couldn’t help it. 

Allura pulled him close, watching every little expression on his face. A flicker of doubt, but joy, so much joy was reflected in his eyes. She tilted her head up, capturing his lips. A hand cradled through her hair, her hands hooked around his neck.

There wasn’t any more doubt after that. 

-

Typically, Altean weddings had two phases. This one had three.

The first: in the courthouse, where the close friends and family were gathered. Aside from agreed-upon pre-nuptials, the Princess and her Prince Consort would sign the same contract, binding their lives together in front of the government. She wore her governing robes and cape, a soft blue and gold. He wore his military suit, deep green and orange. Coran had agreed to step in. The bride and groom were given a marriage certificate: black and gold and white. In the eyes of the Government, they were married. The gathered parties would have a small feast, celebrating the families binding together.

The second: in the streets of Altea’s capital, during the Juniberry Festival, they had it planned to appear as part of the sunrise parade. The float they were on was decorated as a tiered wedding cake: flowers bursting from each angle. Allura wore a blue and white gown, brightly decorated as to be seen from far away. Takashi wore a purple vest and bowtie, with a white dress shirt and black pants. At the end of the parade route, a Lion Sage came to marry them, in the eyes of the Goddess, their souls should be linked through to the end of the universe. The bride and groom were given diadems: silver and blue and pink. In the eyes of their People, they were married. The pair spent their day dancing in the streets, reveling in the Festival.

The third: at the Castle of Lions, where the Alliance of the Planets had gathered. It was a quiet affair, much like the diplomatic meetings that occurred there. The Princess and the Prince Consort wore kimonos; hers bursting with watercolor flowers of every hue, embroidered with black lions at the edges. His a deep, swirling black and silver, with small swipes of pink that gathered at the edges. The marriage symbols, bright blue tattoos that would wind around their ring fingers, were switched with anklet versions, “If I manage to lose my leg, I really do not deserve her.” Takashi joked. “Well, if you lose your leg, then I have not done my job.” Allura answered back. The bride and groom took sips from the same chalice, gold and black and silver. In the eyes of the Alliance, they were married. The couple wove around the diplomats, mingling well into the night.

-

His ankle stung a bit; the quintessence tattoo was there, glowing faintly in time with his heartbeat. Most of the guests had only come to confirm the ceremony; enough leaders in a room made it a tempting target. In fact, after a long night of cake slicing, of speeches and well-wishers, it was time to wind down. Some of the partygoers were in the Castle itself. It felt strange, since it had been just the two of them for so long, but the chatter was a welcome change. He wouldn’t like it all of the time, but…it was nice.

There wasn’t anyone left but his wife and the last of the guests. Shiro couldn’t help it. He giggled, taking the clamshell box from its hiding spot. He had never in his wildest dreams thought he could’ve done this. Shiro sidled up to his bride, smile wide. “Excuse me, may I have a minute with my wife?” he asked.

“Yes of course! We’re just heading off to bed.” Lance hooked his arm through Keith’s, ignoring his boyfriend’s disappointment. “You take care now!” and he tugged the half Galran away to their room. Shiro could faintly hear an argument.

“But they’re not gonna-”

“Keith. Wedding night.”

“But-”

“Wedding. Night. Human thing. I’ll tell you in the room.”

“Is your tablet charged? I’m better with pictures.”

“KEITH!” his voice jumped up, “That’s just – oh come on I’ll just show you…” they turned a corner.

As soon as there wasn’t noise, Shiro and Allura looked at each other. “Soundproof rooms?” he asked.

“Soundproof enough. I put them far away from the other guests, too.”

“I knew there was a reason I married you.” He smiled, and she smiled back. They were still in their wedding kimonos, refined and elegant. “What are you doing with that?” she pointed at the leftover box.

“Right! Come with me!” Shiro started laughing again, low and quiet. He took her by the hand and led her to the Princess suite. Allura noticed that the bedding was changed, and the soil freshly tilled. “Do you want to know the best thing to do on a wedding bed?”

“What?”

“Eat cake.” He flipped open the clamshell and took two forks from it. A slice of their wedding cake was in inside, brown and blue and white.

He was right.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Posted this back in August, or September of 2017 on my tumblr, lazlolullaby. Just reposting it here to share!


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